Impending Darkness
by OtterPotter
Summary: Family, friends, and home all stolen from her by Howe's betrayal, Emmaline Cousland struggles with her grief as she joins the Grey Wardens. While she battles the Blight, she also battles the darkness threatening her vision. FemCousland/Alistair
1. Chapter One: Of Fire and Betrayal

**If any of you have started to read this fanfiction before, you may notice that I have changed it. It basically went through plastic surgery; I changed some of the cosmetic-type aspects, including a rewrite of this chapter and the main character's name, but the core of the story has remained the same. For anyone who liked the previous version, I appreciate you and I hope that you enjoy the new version as much, if not more than the last version. I certainly like it better.**

**I own nothing.**

My world was destroyed with betrayal and fire.

As we travel I can't stop counting the casualties in my head, the names and faces burning into my mind, tearing at my soul.

Ser Gilmore, my childhood companion, begging me to run as he stands to defend me.

My sister-in-law and nephew, bodies carelessly left to rot.

Nan, Mother Malone, servants and guards, all people I had grown up with, all family to me.

Mother and Father…

"Are you alright?" Duncan finally asks. It has been hours, days, and I've been silent. I haven't spoken. I haven't cried. I suppose when the shock wears off it will be much worse… but I can't imagine how I could feel worse.

"A few days and these wounds will heal completely," I say, almost surprised that I could speak. Intentionally misunderstanding his question, I referred to the wounds on my arm. My own voice sounded foreign to me, and I didn't have enough strength for the real answer.

Duncan merely nodded, and I almost sighed in relief. We continued to travel.

As my body ached and my feet protested, I slowly began more accustomed to traveling. At night I tried to convince myself that the pain would eventually go away while I lie awake, wholly unable to let sleep claim my aching body. Sometimes I thought about the life I used to have. The privileged daughter of an Arl, sheltered and pampered. I never had to travel anywhere on foot before. I never had to fight for my life. I had a family, a place where I belonged.

True, my life wasn't simple. At the age of fourteen we realized that my eyes carried a disease that was slowly robbing me of my peripheral and night vision at an unpredictable rate. Proud of learning to sword fight with ease, I was not about to give that up. In fact, the lessons became more necessary for me. I needed to know that I could defend myself, and defend myself well, despite the circumstances. And I needed the freedom that came with the knowledge that I could take care of myself. I threw myself into my lessons with even more steadfastly than before. When my vision got worse, I adapted. I developed a sense of where my opponents were when I could not see them. And so I excelled, and I became known for it. Emmaline Cousland, the half-blind warrior.

And when I tired of stumbling in the dark or staring at the ground while I was walking, Father had a cane made for me. Enchanted somehow beyond my comprehension, it could turn into a sword on my need. Otherwise I held on to it, pointing it out so that it was in front of me. I could then determine the terrain in front of myself.

Clinging desperately to what vision I have left, the fear of seeing nothing but darkness haunts me. For now though, I have enough. Enough to see everything I still want to see.

In the end, sleep finally won over my exhausted body, and with the rest came clarity. None of the pain was gone, but I realized I was able to push it aside, tuck it away from the center of my being. And so with that, when we arrived at Ostagar, I began to pull the broken pieces of myself together out of necessity. It was a hurriedly stitched job, many of the pieces skewed or missing, and the seams threatened to burst, but it was a start nonetheless. I was able to quietly thank Duncan for his understanding.

**Please leave me a review and tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter Two: Of Meetings and Tasks

**Just in case you missed it, the first chapter has been rewritten. If you haven't already, I would check that out before reading this one. Thanks for your time. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave me a review when you're finished. Thanks!**

He was having an argument with a mage when he first saw her. Her hair was a chestnut brown, a deep color which contained subtle red-orange highlights accented by the sun. It was tied back in a ponytail that suggested it was quite long, and quite a few strands had escaped and been disregarded, left to frame her face. Those strands contrasted with her pale skin, the shade akin to that which you would expect of one who spent their days inside. She was close enough that he noticed her eyes were a dark blue, almost bordering into violet. They were rimed with dark circles at the bottom.

"I was even going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one." He told the mage, proud of his ability to joke even while distracted. The mage, however, was not amused.

Her lips, an impossible shade of red, twitched upwards at his comment, and for a moment he thought he saw her eyes sparkle in amusement. Finally there was someone who appreciated his humor. The mage stormed off, and she stepped forward, obviously wanting to talk to him. He noticed that she carried a cane, held out in front of her when she walked, and it skimmed the ground side to side.

"The one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together," he informed her.

"I know what you mean," she replied. Her voice was light and slightly melodic.

"It's like a party. We could all stand in a circle and hold hands. That would give the darkspawn something to think about." He said.

"We could sing songs," she suggested, "and the power of our voices would compel them to join us, thus effectively ending the violence." There was that same, brief twitch of her lips again, almost gone before he even noticed it.

"Speak for yourself," he told her, "I think most of our voices would drive them towards violence."

"That bad, hmm?" she asked. He nodded solemnly. "A pity. And I thought I had just solved all of our problems there."

"Ha. If only it were that simple." He replied. "We haven't met, have we?" He knew they hadn't. He definitely would have remembered her.

"No we haven't," she started.

"You must be the new recruit Duncan sent word about," he interjected, overcoming his distraction. She nodded, sending the loose strands of hair flying in different directions.

"I'm Emmaline, a pleasure to meet you. You must be Alistair."

"The one and only. At least I hope. I'm not sure I would like having two of me running around."

"That mage certainly seemed like he thought one of you was more than enough. Mind you, he didn't seem like the nicest sort, so I'm not sure I would take his opinion. What was that argument about anyways?"

* * *

After wandering the camp and running into everyone but Alistair, I was relieved to discover that he actually existed. I was starting to think that this was some kind of bizarre Grey Warden hazing ritual or a test of the competence of the half-blind recruit.

And I found an unexpected bit of humor in all of this, his comments provoking a small smile from me as I couldn't help but go along with him. This was almost comforting, and I couldn't help enjoying his company right from the beginning. It wasn't surprising to either of us that I had a lot of questions, and they all came tumbling out as fast as I could think of them. Alistair patiently answered all of them, from the expected, 'So what do Grey Wardens do, exactly?' to the practical, 'What can you tell me about the upcoming battle?', and even the personal, 'Could you tell me a little about yourself?'

When I was finally done asking questions, he asked one of his own.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" he asked hesitantly. I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.

"I don't, but I can probably save you the trouble. You were going to ask about my cane, right?" I said.

"Yes, actually. How did you do that?" he asked.

"I get asked a lot. Yours was more polite than most, though, even if I did stop you from finishing." I told him. "I suppose I owe you it, considering how much you have told me. Besides, you should know anyway. I carry this cane because…it is embedded with a lightning rune that electrocutes whoever I touch with it." He blinked.

* * *

That was obviously not the reason, he thought. But at this point it would be borderline hypocritical for him to call her out on it. And he couldn't blame her for keeping things to herself. After all, he had kept quite a few things himself. She shifted in place a little, looking nervous about his reply.

"That would be quite handy in a crowd," he reasoned. This time a real, full smile spread across her face and reached her eyes. And he realized that she was beautiful.

"It's really the reason why I was recruited," Emmaline informed him.

"I can see why. Duncan has a little-known hatred of crowds." He said.

"That would explain so much," she replied. "Honestly though, it is enchanted, though not in the way that I said. It can turn into a sword. I use it like this because I have an eye disease that causes slow deterioration of night and peripheral vision. I wasn't going to let that stop me from learning to fight, and then there were…circumstances that led me here. Duncan saved my life.

"I'm not asking you to take my word on my abilities. I'm just asking you to give me a chance. Don't automatically hold this against me or think that I need protection. Wait until you see me in action before you make any judgment."

There was a trace of desperation in her voice, and Alistair knew all too well about not wanting to let circumstances that were beyond your control define you.

"Duncan obviously thought that you have proved yourself enough, and he is an excellent judge of character. That's enough for me."

* * *

I let out a small sigh of relief, and felt an immense rush of gratitude towards Alistair. I nodded my thanks, and he seemed to understand. Moving on, I couldn't help feeling a bit apprehensive about the Joining ceremony, whatever that was. I trusted Duncan though, and I was starting to trust Alistair. If they said it was necessary, then it was.

After finding Daveth and Ser Jory, I was able to move through the camp with a bit more ease. It was mostly flat, predictable ground, and I was able to ignore most of the stares that I was receiving. It was a bit annoying, and a bit frustrating, but I guess that I understood them. I was not what they expected. But then again, none of them were what I expected either. Even the prisoner trapped in a cage for deserting was far less cowardly or frightened than one might expect. He was just hungry, and I felt sorry enough for him to make sure he was fed.

We made it back to Duncan eventually, and my dog, Mouse, greeted me customarily by licking my face, and then promptly tried to greet Alistair the same way. I held back a giggle.

"Down boy, down." I ordered him, and he complied obediently. "Good boy." Then I turned to Alistair.

"I'm sorry about that," I apologized, "I guess he likes you."

"I guess I can't blame him," Alistair replied, and I smiled. Duncan had been watching us the whole time, and I was worried he would be mad about the interruption. But he smiled a very small smile, and I got the impression that he was just happy that I was talking and smiling again. I was too, for that matter, and I decided that I liked Duncan. Maybe being a Grey Warden wouldn't be so bad.

But that small moment ended quickly and Duncan explained the tasks that must be performed before we could begin the Joining. We needed three vials of darkspawn blood and some ancient texts, all to be found in the Wilds.

As we started towards the entrance to the Wilds I was briefly reminded of something that Duncan had said to me.

"The pain will start to go away in time, and there will be times where you will be so distracted that it won't feel so unbearable." He had told me.

It was still there, the horror and sorrow, the memory of my destroyed home and family, of betrayal. But I had been kept busy enough so far that it started to numb. I'd be able to find enough distraction here. Maybe the Grey Wardens would be enough for me. Maybe in time these people would become enough for me. But it was all wishful thinking.

None of it mattered if I didn't survive the Joining ceremony.


	3. Chapter Three: Of Terror and Darkness

**And here is installment three of Impending Darkness. A huge thank you to everyone who alerted or favorited. And a very special thank you to my reviewer from the last chapter, SpartanGoddess, whose review made my day and prodded this update. I hope you all enjoy!**

** And not that there was any doubt, but just so we have it covered for the rest of the fic, I own nothing. Period. **

The Wilds were terrifying.

I've never liked forests. The terrain is too unpredictable, with roots, plants, and other objects sporadically strewn around, as well as uneven ground. But the Wilds seemed determined to disable me, and I had to walk very cautiously to avoid tripping while at the same time seeming like I wasn't making as much of an effort as I actually was. Looking vulnerable would make me undoubtedly more so than I was. Then there were the noises, all of the entirely inhuman sounds coming from the more dense concentrations of trees. And then there was the carnage. Corpses, human, animals, and otherwise, lay everywhere, often dismembered, and always horrifying to look at. I struggled to suppress the fear that Fergus would be among them.

I was relieved when we finally came across someone who was alive, but he was badly wounded. The state he was in, I was surprised that he could even speak, let alone utter a warning. I heard Ser Jory stiffen behind me, and guessed that he and Daveth would need some convincing to continue. Not like I really wanted to go farther into the forest, but it needed to be done. Becoming a Grey Warden was the only thing that gave me the momentum to keep going, and I had nothing more to lose. If this was what it required, then so be it. And for the moment, I was more concerned with the wounded man lying on the ground in front of us.

"We can't take you back, but we can at least bandage you up before you leave," I told him, and looked at Alistair.

"I have some bandages in my pack," Alistair said, giving them to me. I bent over to bandage the man, and then helped him up.

"Will you be able to make it?" I asked the soldier quietly.

"I don't know," he replied.

"Here, have this," I said, giving him a potion from my pack. "This should be enough to give you the strength to get back to camp, where they can heal you properly." Or at least, I hoped it would. But if he believed it, it might give him hope enough to make it back.

"Thank you," he said before walking off in the direction of camp.

I turned to face the others, who, with the exception of Alistair, were just as anxious as I had guessed them to be. Alistair and I tried to mollify them, and eventually they calmed enough so that we could move on. It caught my attention when Alistair said that Grey Wardens could sense darkspawn. That would help me fight them quite a bit. As we started to move on, I caught Alistair giving me a strange look, but he quickly looked away when he noticed that I saw him.

The farther we got into the Wilds, the more carnage there was. We were obviously getting close to wherever the darkspawn were. When we came across three men, hanging, I felt inclined to agree with Alistair.

"The whole damn Wilds is excessive," I muttered to myself.

But I quickly realized that everything that we had seen so far was nothing when compared to the darkspawn. They were truly monstrous, hideous creatures, and I almost froze in terror when I saw them. My instincts kicked in, though, and I had made it very clear that out of the options, flight was not available. So I fought, adrenaline rushing through my veins as my body went into hyper drive, my heart pounding against my chest. But after I had slain one, after I had proven their mortality, the terror that they possessed fell from its mythic proportions to a smaller, easier to handle amount.

It hardly took an effort to collect three vials of darkspawn blood with how many had attacked us. Then all we had to do was retrieve the treaties and we could go back to Duncan. Unfortunately, no task seemed to be as simple as I had first thought, and the texts were not there where they were supposed to be. We did end up retrieving them, however, after meeting Morrigan and her mother, a bit of talking, a bit of walking, and more than enough of accusing people of being 'The Witch of the Wilds'. Apparently we're the jumpy, superstitious type of folk. For all I know, though, Daveth could be right.

Coming back to camp meant coming back to the Joining ritual. Ser Jory and Daveth seemed to become more and more anxious with each step, and I myself was definitely feeling more than apprehensive. I listened to them both worry as we waited for Duncan.

"Calm down guys," I told them, "whatever happens, it won't make it any better if we worry." I wish I could have told them that everything would be alright, but I didn't believe that myself. How could it be, when my whole family was dead except for my brother, who I couldn't even find?

Alistair stood there, silent the whole time. His face was close to expressionless. I suddenly wondered just how bad this Joining was, if it had driven him silent and his face blank, such a strange look for a man whose emotions seemed to play out openly on his face. Or perhaps I had the wrong impression of him.

But the Joining, as it turns out, was as bad as I had thought, or even worse, claiming the life of Daveth, and also Ser Jory's, albeit indirectly. I cringed when Duncan had killed him, and the image I had started to build up of Duncan shattered. It was replaced by an image of a man who was driven by necessity. A true Grey Warden. Nevertheless, I understood.

And then it was my turn. I knew that I should be more frightened about this, more hesitant. I should fear my death. However, that lack of fear was the benefit of having nothing to lose. It didn't matter to me, whichever way this turned out.

I took the cup from Duncan and drank the darkspawn blood without hesitation.

It was every bit as vile and disgusting as the darkspawn themselves, and I could feel the taint spreading through my body. It felt like every limb was on fire. Then the world around me was gone, replaced by quick, violent images of nightmarish proportions. True terror filled my very being as I recognized a dragon. And then everything turned violently to black.


	4. Chapter Four: Of War and Survival

** I've started to take a few liberties with this story now. And I'm doing my best with the dialogue, some it will be from the game, some of it will be close to what it is in the game, and some of it will be completely different. It all depends on what I can remember and what I think is best. Oh, and by the way, I may get the next chapter finished tomorrow, but I'm holding it until I get a couple reviews. Just as an extra incentive. **

**Enjoy, and leave me a review when you are done! **

When she finally opened her eyes, Alistair almost let out a sigh of relief. She had survived. He vaguely heard Duncan, welcoming her into the Grey Wardens.

"When I became a Warden, only one of us died, but it was…horrible. I'm glad at least one of you survived." He said. _And I'm glad it was you, _he thought to himself before he could help it, quickly shaking the thought out of his mind. "Did you dream? I had horrible dreams. They say it's worse for those who join during a Blight."

Emmaline did look rather shaken. She had sat up, but hadn't gotten off of the ground yet. He held out a hand for her, and she looked at it for a second, uncomprehending. Then she blinked and took it, letting him help her up.

"Yes, I saw… things," she said, and shivered a little at the memory. "Nothing you could have said would have prepared me for that."

"Before I forget, we give this to every Grey Warden. It has some of the darkspawn blood in it so that we can remember who we are, and the sacrifices made." He told her, giving her a pendent on a long chain. She nodded solemnly, and took it, putting it around her neck.

"Take some time. When you are ready, I need to speak with you, and then we must go and meet with the king." Duncan said, nodding at Alistair, who took it as a sign of dismissal. As he walked away, he heard her speak.

"I am able to speak with you now, if that's alright." She said.

Back by the fire, he wondered what Duncan wanted to talk to her about. Then again, Duncan had known her longer than he had. But that wasn't saying much, considering how short the time that he had spent with her was.

He found her intriguing, though. Duncan hadn't gone into much detail, but it sounded like she had just went through a devastating loss. Her vision being limited as she had told him, he had to admit he had been a little concerned for her. Fighting one person in a tournament was a whole different experience than fighting hordes of darkspawn. But Duncan had chosen her, and she had almost begged him to hold back his judgment, and so he did. And when he actually saw her in action, any doubts were erased from his mind. She could definitely handle herself. Actually, if she didn't carry a cane, he would have never known about her disease. She walked with precision and confidence, each step deliberate.

He had to admit that he did not mind her company. She had a sense of humor that was a match with his, when she let herself. Remembering her treatment of the wounded soldier in the Wilds, he saw her compassion. The potion that she gave him, and the hope that went with it, had given the man a much better chance than just the bandages could have. Calm in the face of fire, she had done her best to calm the others.

It was curious however, how she had drank the darkspawn blood without any hesitation, even after the deaths that she had witnessed. He wasn't sure what had caused that, but he was almost certain that it was not just bravery.

But he had no longer to think about it, because she and Duncan were approaching.

* * *

War was noisy.

Even from the distance, I could hear the screams of rage and pain, the shouting of orders, the firing of more than one ballista, the inhuman gargles of the darkspawn, and many other noises all combining into a discordant symphony. I almost wished I could plug my ears.

For once, I get a chance to be a part of something important, and instead of fighting I have to go light a freaking signal. But for the part of me that was frustrated, there was another, larger part that was glad. I wouldn't last long out there. It was dark, and I could barely see. Besides, lighting the signal was vital as well. Without it, Logain's forces wouldn't join the battle.

When we arrived at the tower, darkspawn were swarming the place. Wait, weren't they not supposed to be here?

"Looks like we have some unexpected visitors," Alistair said.

"We really should have seen this coming," I told him. And with that, we were into battle.

When we finally reached the top of the tower I had decided something important. I hated darkspawn, I hated ogres, and I hated their tendency to be everywhere they shouldn't. I hated their taint, their stench, and how it was close to impossible to get rid of all of them. I was muttering curse words as Alistair went over to light the beacon. Almost the moment it was lit, a whole horde of darkspawn charged through the doorway. I opened my mouth to call to Alistair, but before I could speak I felt pain blossom all throughout my shoulder. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, I just collapsed, another spasm of pain running through me as I hit the very hard, very solid ground. My pain paralyzed me until I slipped into merciful unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter Five: Of Massacres

**Well…life. That's why it's taken so long for this chapter. It refused to be written in the first place, and then my life decided it wasn't crazy enough, and then school started and it all hit the fan. I'm going to be on the fritz for a while, so I can't give a definite time for my next update. Somewhere in between all of the Chemistry I suppose. Anyways, same stuff, different day; don't own it, never will. Enjoy and leave me a little review afterwards. Make my day. Thanks!**

Well. This was awkward.

I woke up groggily in a bed, in some strange place I had never been before, wearing only my underclothes. Um…

Then Morrigan walked over, which did absolutely nothing to clear my confusion. Slowly, I started to remember…the battle…the tower…

"What happened? To the darkspawn? The king?" I asked hurriedly. If I was here, something must have gone wrong.

"The man that was supposed to aide your king quit the field." Morrigan said unemotionally.

"That would have made it… a massacre." I said, hoping I was wrong.

"It was," she said. "Your companion has not stopped blubbering about it." I sat up.

"My companion? Do you mean Alistair?" I asked.

"The dim-witted one? Yes, mother was able to heal both of you. He is outside."

I got up and found my belongings where they lay on a table. Changing back into my armor, I picked up my pack and rushed towards the door. I realized Morrigan was still standing next to the door, apparently interested in my newfound enthusiasm to get out of the door. She was wrong though, I had wanted to get out of here as soon as I woke up here. Although she may not mind being skimpily dressed in front of strangers, I did not possess that mindset. Alistair being outside was just an added motivator. Still…

"Thank you for your help, Morrigan," I said. Manners were an integral part of my upbringing. For a moment, sorrow seemed to engulf me, and then I was pulled out of it when Morrigan spoke.

"You are welcome. Although Mother did most of the healing." She said.

Truly, I just wanted to get outside where there was fresh air. I needed to breathe. The whole force of what had happened had just sunk in and I felt like I couldn't move. I stumbled out of the hut.

The old lady said something and Alistair said something back, but I could barely hear them.

Loghain had quit the field. He had left everyone there to die. The king, slaughtered. All of the soldiers, slaughtered. All of the Grey Wardens slaughtered. Duncan slaughtered. This betrayal was too soon, too unexpected, and too similar to what had happened to my home, my family. I felt the weight of both losses.

And I was on fire. Burning from the inside out. My blood boiled. My heart pounded. At the same time I was cold. I was frozen in sorrow and in what will never be. And any of the fragile hope that I had been holding on to was gone, brutally destroyed. I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach. I vaguely wondered how I was ever going to get myself to move again. Then, there was a hand on my shoulder, and I felt the tilting world start to balance itself out a little.

"Emmaline, are you alright?" It was Alistair, his face in front of mine, eyes red rimmed.

And it hit me.

How must he be feeling?

So I pulled myself together, put away the grief and despair for some other day. Alistair was, effectively, the only thing left in my life that I knew. And, I supposed, I was close to the only thing he had left as well. I had to stay my emotions.

* * *

Alistair watched as she pulled herself together. He never thought that such an action could be so easily read from the outside, but she had proved him wrong. Nervous at the fact that she hadn't spoke since she stumbled from the door, he had walked closer to her.

Emmaline's face was blank, and then slowly her eyes widened as she visibly realized what had happened. Her body shook, presumably from a combination of rage and grief. He knew this feeling only too well, and he put a hand on her shoulder to remind her that she was not alone.

That simple gesture caused her to make eye contact with him, her eyes glistening.

"Emmaline, are you alright?" he asked, concerned, and watched as she forced herself to stop shaking. She touched a hand to his hand on her shoulder, sending a jolt feeling coursing through his body. _What was that?, _he wondered.

"I'm alright," she said calmly, "I appreciate your concern." But her eyes, now clearly level with his, showed concern and understanding. Her careful gaze had not missed the redness around his eyes, and she had known before how important Duncan was to him.

Emmaline turned to address the other woman, walking past Alistair. As she did, she touched his shoulder briefly, and muttered something to him out of sight, barely moving her lips.

"We'll talk later. I promise." She said. Warmth washed over him as he realized that he truly wasn't alone.


	6. Chapter Six: Of Tears and Promises

**Because I needed a pick-me-up. **

For once things were quiet, and I was extremely grateful. On the way to Lothering, there was no time for thinking, just pushing forward. That only got worse as we arrived at the aforementioned town, which was pushed toward desperation by the Blight and the influx of refugees. And we had just left them there…

I quickly pushed the thought of Lothering out of my head. We couldn't help everyone, but if we can stop the Blight then we will save a great deal of lives. It wouldn't bring anyone back, but it was the best I had. I _had _to believe that, if only to believe something.

I put my head in my hands, trying to just stop thinking, if just for awhile, and listened to the gentle sound of water. There was a small river just a ways out of camp where I had gone to acquire this quiet. Surrounded by trees, only a small bit of moonlight escaped the thick canopy and bounced off the water's surface. It was admittedly too dark for me, and even though my eyes strained I stayed put. There were precious little places that I can see in these days.

Leaves crunched behind me, and I smiled softly to myself, raising my head out of my hands. I had left camp rather abruptly; at least someone was a little concerned.

"Alistair," I said without turning around, "I wondered when you were going to come find me." I patted the ground next to where I was sitting and motioned for him to join me.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked, joining me. I turned to face him, noting that he, like me, had changed out of his armor into simpler clothes. However, he still had a sword strapped to his side, and I had my cane by my side. _You can never be too careful_. There was worry written on his face, and his eyes still held the same dullness to them that had been present since the Grey Wardens died. My heart simultaneously warmed and broke. _Don't let yourself get attached,_ _everyone can be taken from you,_ a voice in my head whispered_. But he needs someone to look out for him,_ I thought back.

"I didn't hear a weapon being drawn or armor, and I_ could_ hear you, which meant that you weren't a rogue sneaking up on me, or a foe. So then out of my allies, you are the most likely to actually care where I went, we've known each other the longest. And then there's the fact that I've travelled with you long enough to know how the way that you walk sounds. All in all, it was a pretty good guess." I told him.

"You think that all out like that?" he asked quietly.

"More or less. It's more instinctual now, I just know first and then I can explain later. And when so much of my vision is compromised, it's necessary that I use all of the rest of my senses to perceive things that my vision can't. It's why I can fight so well." I explained.

"Hmm. That could be handy."

"I'll assume that you want to know why I'm out here."

"I thought that you just wanted to get away from my cooking."

"No, I just didn't want to sicken anyone with my own. Truthfully though, I've just had a lot on my mind. Speaking of which, you've still been very quiet lately. How are you doing?"

"The Grey Wardens were the only family I've really known, and they're all gone. Every time I think that I'm moving on and I'm getting better, something reminds me of them or Duncan, and I'm back to where I started. But how can I cope with this? Can you imagine having everyone you know, your whole family, taken away from you by a betrayal like that?"

"I don't have to." A tear slipped down my face before I could help it.

"Emmaline-I didn't… Duncan never told me, but I guessed something…I'm so sorry…I'm such an idiot." Alistair was almost incoherent.

"It's alright," I said quietly, "You didn't know. I don't blame you." I drew in a deep breath and wiped away my remaining tears. "The night Duncan stayed at my family's keep in Highever was when an old family friend, Rendon Howe, betrayed us. He murdered all of my family. My brother's the only one left, and he was probably killed at Ostagar. I am the last of the Couslands." Saying it broke down a wall that I was desperately trying to keep up, and I couldn't help my tears this time. A split second passed and then Alistair pulled me into his arms. I could barely hear him comforting me as I sobbed into his shoulder. When I finally calmed my shaking, I cherished how good it felt to be held. For the first time in the longest time, I felt warm and safe.

"Duncan was from Highever too, I believe. When this is all over, I want to go put up a memorial for him. Maybe we can put one up for your family too." He was still holding me, comforting me, and the offer was so sweet that I almost started crying again. I pulled back a little so that I could look him in the eyes, and I noticed that his eyes were red as well.

"I would like that. Just promise me one thing. Promise me that we'll help each other through this. I don't think I can do this alone."

"I promise." I nodded, and then pulled away completely, standing up. He followed.

"We should probably head back to camp," I said, feeling a blush still on my cheeks. I smiled as I saw that Alistair's ears were as red as my cheeks felt. He nodded. "Oh, and Alistair."

"Yes?"

"Thank you," I said, reaching up and kissing his cheek, "For everything."


	7. Chapter Seven: Of Dreams and Confessions

**It's short, but I figured I had to start trying to catch up at some point. I kept some of the original dialogue because I liked it so much. The next chapter will have more action in it, I promise. **

**Enjoy and review. **

_There was a bridge over an abyss filled with what looked like magma. Then it flashed, showing a familiar terrifying dragon as it…spoke…to hordes and hordes of darkspawn. It roared and flames spurted out of its mouth willingly. _

I woke up trembling, unable to completely process how real the dream felt.

"Bad dreams, huh?" Alistair asked gently. I looked up, spotting him by the fire. I got up to join him, hoping that the warmth of the fire would calm the tremors running through me.

"I saw…a dragon…darkspawn. It seemed so real." I told him quietly.

"It is real. Well, sort of." he replied. _What? _"Part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. The archdemon it…talks… to the hordes, and we feel it, just as they do. That's what your dream was. That's how we know this is really a Blight."

"So the archdemon is a dragon?" I asked, wondering for the first time how over our heads we had gotten. Alistair nodded. "I've seen it before. In my dreams after the Joining."

"It takes a bit, but after awhile you can block the dreams out. Some of the older wardens say they can understand the archdemon, but I sure can't. Anyway, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me too." There was something so sincere in his voice that warmth ran through my entire body. I stopped shaking.

"Thank you Alistair. I appreciate it."

"That's what I'm here for: delivering unpleasant news and witty one-liners. While you're up, we should decide where we're going to next." There was a tension to him, and I realized his unspoken request.

"We should go to Redcliffe, to see the condition of Arl Eamon." I said. Alistair relaxed visibly. Obviously he was concerned about the arl's welfare.

"Thank you."

The road to Redcliffe was fairly uneventful, and the journey passed more quickly when I had either Alistair or Leliana to speak with. We talked of all manners of things, from our families and our past lives to the abilities that we possess. There was still so much to learn about my companions, and I was happy to gain as much knowledge about them as possible. As soon as Redcliffe was in sight, Alistair pulled me aside.

"Look, before we go any further, there's something I need to tell you. I, uh, probably should have told you earlier." He told me.

"If it's about your love of cheeses, I figured that one out myself." I said, trying to avoid the nagging anxiety about what he was going to tell me.

"You noticed that, did you?" he asked with a slight smile. "No, it's not about that. I told you before that Arl Eamon raised me, right?" I nodded.

"Your mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took you in, I remember." I supplied.

"Right, well, the reason that he did that was because…well…um…because King Maric was my father, which made Cailan my half brother."

I blinked. This was definitely unexpected. Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, hurt welled up. Why had he not told me earlier? Surely we were friends?

"So, you're not only a bastard, you're a royal bastard?" I asked, trying to mask my hurt. _Do not act like a pining little girl, _I scolded myself.

"Ha, I suppose you're right," he mused, "I'll have to use that one more often. Look, I should have told you earlier but it never really came up. Besides, I kind of liked you not knowing."

"You…enjoyed not telling me?" I asked, confused.

"Whenever anyone knew about it, they treated me differently. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I just wanted you to like me for me. I know it sounds stupid." He was having trouble meeting my eyes. _Oh Alistair, _I sighed inwardly, _I would have liked you regardless. Too much. _

"It doesn't sound stupid…I just wish that…" I sighed, trailing off, "Is there anything else you're not telling me? Any more secrets?" His characteristic smile was back on his face.

"Well, you already found out about my unholy love of fine cheeses… so just a minor obsession with my hair. That's all there is. Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

"It's alright, I think I understand."

"Oh, good. I actually feel better now that I've told you. We can just go back to you believing that I'm just another nobody who was lucky enough not to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens." _As if I could think that, _I thought.

"What does that make me then?" I dared to ask, and Alistair's face grew uncharacteristically serious.

"The reason, I think, that there's hope of winning."


End file.
